Pieces of Me
by Taamar
Summary: It wasn't Gwen who brought Jack back after Abaddon, and there's more to Ianto Jones than meets the eye.


**Pieces of Me**

**AN:**** I've gone a little weird for this one. Sorry about that. **

Ianto Jones has never been an ordinary person. Since childhood, he's had what his mam had called _Synnwyr _(_Sense_. Ianto always thinks it in English even though Mam used the Welsh word that encompasses awareness and instinctual knowing rather than physical sensations). There is a life energy, or absence of one, in all things, and Ianto has always seen it as easily as he'd seen the physical world. It's how he knew when his mam was gone, and when Lisa _wasn't_. He'd been taught how to see without sight, how to feel without touch, extending his _sense_ to his surroundings. This has not always been to his advantage.

At Canary Wharf, when the Void had opened, letting the Cybermen and Daleks through, he'd felt it tearing through the fabric of reality, the pain leaving him incapacitated in the archives, curled up behind a locked blast door. He hadn't been able to function again until everything touched by Void stuff had been pulled away. Searching the ruins for Lisa, he'd found her still attached to the conversion unit, stuck in a horrid limbo between life and death. But with his _sense_ he'd been able to feel it- within the buzzing of the Cybertechnology, Lisa was still there. She _was_, and he'd been determined to save her.

From the beginning he'd known that Jack Harkness existed outside the usual rules of Ianto's _sense_. Jack was clearly _alive_, but without the sense of flow Ianto was used to feeling; he was _fixed_, with no beginning or end. If most lives were a river flowing from spring to sea, Jack was the boundless ocean. Ianto had felt the tidal pull when Jack had healed from the Weevil's scratch in Bute Park the first time they'd met. Months later, when Jack had confronted Suzie on the Plass, Ianto had felt Jack's death when he was shot, then the rushing wave of _life_ when he revived.

Suzie's actions that night hadn't surprised Ianto. He'd been wary of the alien gauntlet from the start; he'd watched as it took the life energy from the wearer and forced it into a body that contained no _self_. The victim regained consciousness, but was neither alive nor dead, and seemingly aware of the unnatural nature of their existence. As Suzie used the glove, he'd seen its contamination spread, a sickness of spirit, but there'd been no way to tell anyone without spilling his secret. By the time she'd killed herself on the Plass, her death was more mercy than tragedy.

Ianto had also been able to feel when the balance shifted between Lisa and the Cyberman, but he'd refused to accept it until it was too late. Even after she had thrown him, killed him, and he'd been brought back by Jack Harkness's gift of breath and life, he'd followed her, trying to change the unchangeable. He'd failed.

Since that day, Ianto has kept a secret. While he was caught between life and death, he had sensed the ebb and flow of eternity surrounding him, and when Jack had brought him back, he found that a small piece of time itself had lodged within him. Ianto later realized that he'd somehow taken on a piece of _Jack_ as well, and wondered if Jack would have chosen to save him if he'd known what he was giving away. Or perhaps he _had_ known, and had done so deliberately, though Ianto couldn't image why. They were bound together now, somehow; or at least, Ianto was bound to Jack.

It had been that bond that kept Ianto (mostly) sane during his suspension, and after the disaster of the camping trip, when he'd been overwhelmed by the disease and decay surrounding the village. It had been the odd resonance of the shard of _Jack_ had led to him shooting Owen when Jack and Tosh had been stuck in 1941. It had been the corruption of _time_ after Owen had opened the Rift that made Ianto willing to betray Jack, letting loose the _unlife_ of Abaddon, which still, three days later, left everything covered with a slick film of decay.

And now it's that severed connection that has him sitting in the corner of Jack's office, shaking and contemplating something that he knows he should never consider. Jack is dead. Has been for three days, and the fragment of _Jack_ that Ianto has carried inside him since Jack had breathed it into his soul is slowly withering within him. Ianto doesn't know if he can survive it, but he remembers his mam's lessons. Ianto knows how to reach out with his _sense_, and what is that but pushing his _self_ beyond the bounds of his body? And with a piece of _Jack_ inside him, can't he… put it back?

There's a word for this, for reanimating the dead. _Necromancy_, but Ianto thinks that's a bit melodramatic, with creepy overtones of the occult, and there's nothing _dark_ about what he's planning. He won't be reviving a corpse (he can't think of Jack as a corpse, or he'll start to unravel), he's simply returning something that was lost. Unlike the gauntlet, he'll be starting with Jack's own essence and allowing it to fill the void of life in Jack's physical body. And if the return of that piece of _Jack_ to its proper place rights a wrong and brings Jack back to life, well, that must have been how things were meant to be, right? Certainly Ianto doesn't have the power or skill to bend the laws of nature.

He heads for the archives, then turns back to fetch a blanket from the camp bed in Jack's quarters (he'd rather not think about how much time he's spent there, not now), not knowing how long he'll be in the damp underbelly of the Hub while attempting this. He's chosen the archives because, more than any other place in the world right now, they're _his_. If he sends his spirit walking (and what a simplistic, primitive way of describing what he intends to do), this is the one place he knows he'll be able to find himself after. He wraps himself up in the blanket, in the intoxicating scent of Jack, settles into a comfortable position, and thinks there must be some sort of ritual he ought to be using. Surely, with this strange strand of power extending through certain of the old Cardiff families, someone must have come up with some sort of Best Practices protocol, but he has no idea what it might be. His Mam never taught him anything like this, may not have even thought it possible.

Ianto closes his eyes, cradles the bit of _Jack_ in the embrace of his _self_, and expands beyond his body. The Hub looks odd to his senses, full of things that vibrate differently than the earth-bound energy he's always known. He can feel Tosh and Owen going about their tasks, pretending that everything will be all right, while their friend and leader cools in the morgue. And there's Gwen, holding vigil. Ianto knows she's hoping against hope, that she believes she'll never lose anyone because she's never lost anyone before. It can't happen to her, she thinks, but Ianto knows better. He turns his contemplation from Gwen to Jack. To his _sense_, Jack has always been an anomaly, even before he'd brought Ianto back. He, like the artifacts in the archives, didn't (doesn't) resonate with Earth, but it was (is) more than that. Something about him _does_ resonate with the _time _Ianto had brought back with him. And to Ianto's sightless vision, Jack is beautiful, as if held eternally in a moment of falling, but not subject to gravity. Even in death, Jack is extraordinary.

Ianto gathers his courage. What he's about to attempt is a deliberate manipulation of the life force of another. It's potentially a violation of mind and spirit, more intimate than sharing their bodies. And because Jack is dead, this must, by its very nature, be done without consent. He hopes Jack will forgive him.

It is Gwen's kiss that shakes Ianto from his fear. He can't help feeling a bit proprietary. As much as the archives are, Jack is _his_; Gwen has Rhys at home. She'd opened the Rift to get him back, yet she'd been by Jack's side since he'd been brought in. Let her go home to the man she truly loves, he thinks; Ianto, and Ianto alone, can bring Jack back.

He eases himself across Jack's slowly dissipating spiritual boundaries (where had Jack learned to create those edges? Ianto's never seen anything like it,) and pushes the little bit of _Jack_ he's been holding into the man, then uses his bit of _time _to encourage it to grow the way breath teases an ember into flame. There's the tiniest kindling, then nothing. He tries again. Barely a glow. He frantically gathers his own life force and shoves, heedless of the harm he might to do himself- if he doesn't succeed, he knows he won't want to wake up.

It works. Jack's _self_ expands, and Ianto pulls back, untangling himself. Now Jack looks like himself to Ianto's _sight_, but he still doesn't live. This is the part Ianto is most uncertain about. He's put Jack back together, but it's for nothing if Jack's body can't sustain life. He's never heard of anyone affecting the physical world with their _sense_; he knows the gauntlet had compelled the heart to beat, but how? He remembers the steady ticking of the stopwatch while he'd waited for the EKG to stop its bleeping. He pictures the scene as it looked to his _sight_ and suddenly understands. He'd seen the link between wearer and corpse pulsing. If they'd been monitoring Gwen's heartbeat, he knew they'd have seen it keeping time with each of the victims'.

Imagining that cord of energy, creating it from nothing more than his own need, Ianto wills Jack's heart into motion with the rhythm of his own, holding it until Jack sucks in a quiet breath, whispering 'thank you'. Ianto knows Gwen will think it's for her, but he doesn't care. He retreats, exhausted but satisfied, returning to the cold corner in the archives where he huddles in Jack's blanket. He comes fully conscious in his own body and notices two things. One, that he's been crying and his face is sticky and wet. And two, that he's left something behind. Not only is the bit of _Jack_ that he's carried with him gone, he's now missing a piece of himself. He considers whether it bothers him and decides that it does not; he's already given Jack his heart (not that he expects anything in return.) This just makes things official.

He doesn't know exactly when it happened, but he's pretty sure he fell for Jack during his suspension, after what was left of Lisa was killed. Jack had been so kind to him even though Ianto could feel his anger at Ianto's betrayal. He'd offered forgiveness. After Estelle was killed, Ianto had stayed up with Jack, listening to his stories and regrets. After the cannibals, it had been Jack waiting up with Ianto, on hand with painkillers and reassurances. They'd become friends, and Ianto's proposition with the stopwatch, unplanned though it was, had felt more like an extension of that than romance. They were both hurting, both lonely. Why shouldn't they take comfort in each other?

And now that Jack holds part of _Ianto_, will that change? Will Jack even notice? Does it matter, so long as Jack lives? When he stops shivering from the chill, Ianto goes back up to the Hub to help Tosh repair the wiring. He keeps his head down, trying not to let on what he knows. But when Jack comes up, he's suddenly nervous. What he wants is to wrap his arms around Jack, feel his life and banish the image of him, cold and still, in the morgue just an hour before. But does Ianto have that right after defying him? Does Jack know what he's done? Will Jack want him anymore, even as a friend?

He approaches awkwardly and holds out his hand. He's not expecting it when Jack pulls him into an embrace, and stumbles. Then there's nothing but relief. Jack is alive, and things are all right between them. Jack kisses him.

It's only later, after Jack has run off with the Doctor, that Ianto realizes that his piece of _Jack_ is back. Jack must have returned it with the kiss, freely and of his own will, and kept what Ianto had inadvertently given him. Ianto knows what that means: It's a promise. Jack will come home to him. The others might doubt, but Ianto knows. He can feel it, deep down where Jack has lodged in his heart.

**AN the Second: As always, thank you to Gmariam, who takes my late night ramblings (seriously, 2am) and tells me what works and, more importantly, what doesn't. **


End file.
